Queen of Junk
by Ksiezniczka
Summary: 07 movieverse. EXTREME Crack. When Maggie Madsen is captured by the Junkions, she unintentionally enchants their leader... Heck yes, I wrote a Wreck-GarXMaggie fic! Continued due to popular demand.
1. King and Queen of the World

**I have a million other stories I should be working on. I could be typing up another chapter of my pride and joy, "Wonderwall", or working on one of its two companion fics: "Through Glass", the prequel involving Soundwave and Jazz; or the yet-untitled twin-centric fic. I also have two one-shots on the way: one involving a Decepticon (I'm not revealing who except to say that it ISN'T STARSCREAM!) and their unrequited crush on Perceptor. And the other centred on Wheelie, in attempt to get people to stop bashing him. I'm sure he's a reason he's so annoying, and he's just a little kid. Besides, why bash Wheelie when you could be much more productive and bash someone who deserves it? Like Shockwave, or Huffer?**

**ANYWAY, once this idea got into my head, it just wouldn't leave me alone. Flame if you want. It's just crack. It isn't meant to be taken seriously.**

**Notes on the semi-AU: This is movie-verse (I'm not a G1 purist! They scare me!), but with some other Autobots having arrived since the end of the movie. (No OCs). And as awesome as Camaros are, Bumblebee is a VW bug again, cos… I can… and I'm using the G1 Jazz, too. Eventually. C'mon, guys, Blaster is the one who should talk like a racial stereotype, not Jazz! And sadly, this is really how I would imagine the Junkions had they been in the new movie.**

**On another note, I like Hot Rod. I hate Rodimus Prime, but Hot Rod is cool. I'm portraying him as a flamed Corvette here, cos I saw one the other day, and it looked JUST LIKE HIM!**

**I don't own "Transformers", no. That honour falls to HasTak (Hasbro/Takara), yes. I also don't own the Asimo (Look it up; it's freaking adorable!) or a majority of Wreck-Gar's lines.**

**--**

"What," was the first thing anyone said upon the girl's return, "Is _that_?" Said someone was a trigger-happy weapon specialist. Ironhide had seen a lot of things in his life, but never anything _quite_ like the thing standing shyly behind Maggie Madsen, friend and ally to the Autobots and US government.

"Not the 'welcome home' I was expecting," Maggie scowled up at Ironhide. His cannons and rough disposition didn't faze her one bit. She was used to the Autobots and all their personality quirks, from the five that she had originally known, to the other nine that had since found their way to Earth: Prowl, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Hot Rod, Arcee, Blaster, Tracks, Blurr, and Wheeljack. "And to answer your question, that'd be my gift from the Japanese government. It's a robot."

Maggie, you see, had just gotten back from a business trip in Japan. Her helping the Japanese government out was supposed to secure the alliance between Japan and the US. Nobody seemed to care that she was Australian, of course. The Autobots and their human friends from the government, as well as Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Banes, were supposed to be welcoming her back to her temporary home at the Autobot HQ. (It was preferable to staying in hotels or renting a crappy apartment.)

"Robot?" Ironhide poked the small, white figure standing behind the young hacker. "That's no robot! It's not like any I've ever seen!"

"It's a Honda ASIMO," Maggie pushed the giant hand away, hugging her Asimo robot protectively. "Our technology may not be as advanced as yours, but at least be polite! The poor thing's scared! How is it s'posed to register your faces into its databank if you scare it?"

"What's it do?" another Autobot, the Volkswagen known as Bumblebee, stared at the Asimo curiously. He secretly was thrilled to no longer be the shortest robot in the base. (Besides, of course, Jazz's corpse, which Ratchet _refused_ to get rid of, as it hadn't faded to the dull grey of most dead mechs.) He'd been a Camaro, once, but after a particularly gruesome fight with Thundercracker, the only parts available to Ratchet that fit his form were those of a Volkswagen beetle. Ah well. He was more comfortable this way, anyway.

"It's like a robotic assistant," Mikaela piped up. "I saw a demonstration of a prototype at Disneyland when I went with Trent. I thought it was for handicapped people or something."

"I thought you'd all appreciate its help around here," Maggie smiled brightly towards Mikaela. "Nobody likes cleaning up after the disaster duo, after all."

"Hey!" Sideswipe glared at the Asimo. "You're gonna give it the wrong idea about us!"

"Yeah! We haven't even done anything yet!" Sunstreaker added as he, too, glared. The Asimo beeped and buried its head in Maggie's skirt.

"Oh, leave the poor thing be, you two," Arcee, the female Autobot that had become fast friends with Mikaela and Maggie, walked over and scooped Asimo up. "Hi there! I'm Arcee. Are you liking America so far?"

As Arcee cooed and beeped at the tiny robot in her hands, Maggie sighed, looked around, and noticed someone was missing.

"Where's Glen?" she arched an eyebrow. "I thought he'd be here."

"Ohhewenttosomethingcalledavideogameconvention,yup,andIwasallTAKEMETOOandhewasallNOWAYMANandthen,andthen,andthen,"

"Okay, Blurr, I get it!" the Aussie woman shook her head and smiled. "Figures… What'd I miss around here?"

"Nothing much," Bumblebee shrugged. "The Decepticons are still laying low. Optimus is still stressing out way too much than is good for him. The twins are still spending as much time as they can distracting Ratchet and Wheeljack from trying to fix Jazz. Ironhide still wants to blow shit up. Tracks is still vain. Oh, and we built another story to the base to accommodate all the Autobot arrivals!"

"Really? But I didn't see anything added onto the building when Optimus drove me up."

"We didn't build up; we dug down! Our second story is underground!" the Volkswagen grinned happily.

"Yeah, wanna see? I'll give you a tour," Arcee offered, placing a much calmer-Asimo back on the ground. The tiny robot chirped happily.

"In that case, I'd better come along too," Hot Rod jumped up. "Optimus, permission to give Maggie a tour?"

"Permission granted," the unusually-silent leader nodded slightly, and the four of them – Hot Rod, Arcee, Asimo, and Maggie – were off before anyone could say anything.

--

It really was incredible, the "second story". Rather than traditional building, Wheeljack had merely "enhanced" the natural caverns underneath the base – caverns that no one else had even known were there. But the _most_ amazing thing was the evidence that someone had been here before.

Arcee and Hot Rod had dismissed it, but Maggie was sure that the Autobots weren't the first to use the caverns. The scratches on the walls were too organized, too mechanical, to not be hieroglyphs. She noticed Asimo cocking its head, as if trying to comprehend.

"Don't bother, Asimo," she laughed. In the short time since getting the four-foot-tall robot, she'd grown rather attached to it. "You won't be able to read it. I'm a hacker, remember? I've already tried and I can't."

"Well," Hot Rod shrugged and exchanged glances with the pretty femme Arcee, "We should really get back to the others soon. Maggie?"

Maggie opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a strange rumbling, and the cave started to tremble.

"An earthquake?!" she exclaimed, pulling the Asimo towards her protectively. It was delicate, after all. "But we aren't near any major fault lines!"

"Arcee! Get behind me! I'll cover you!" Hot Rod insisted, to which the pink femme retorted:

"No, _you_ get behind_ me_ and _I'll_ cover _you_!"

However, no one had time to get behind or cover each other as just then one of the walls burst and in came a quartet robots unlike any Maggie had ever seen. They were definitely Transformers, but they weren't Autobot _or_ Decepticon! Two were in alt-modes, as odd, motorbike things, and two were riding their companions in bipedal mode.

Maggie shrieked as one of them grabbed her. "Lemme go!"

"I'll never let go, Jack," the mech grinned down at her and she shuddered. It's optics were red, but that wasn't even the worst part – it had facial hair. That went against everything her logical mind had ever known.

"Arcee! Hot Rod!" The Aussie shrieked as the mechs rode away, kidnapping her. "Take Asimo and get help!"

--

Maggie glared at the leader of the strange mechs that had captured her. He had longer facial hair, though, upon closer inspection, she was a little relieved to find that they were wires rather than hair. She wished she could talk to them and determine if they really wanted to hurt her, but at the moment she was tied up. Literally. Now, Maggie was a fairly open girl, but she had rather hoped that the first time she was bound and gagged would be consensual.

However, she could hear a voice. Very faint, but it was there. Autobots. Her rescuers!

"I'm telling you, Optimus, one blast from my cannons and these things'll be sorry they –"

"Ironhide, we can't. At least wait to see if they mean us any harm before mindlessly blowing anything up."

"Of course they mean us harm! You heard Hot Rod and Arcee!"

"Ironhide," the stern voice sounded much louder, and Maggie turned to see two of her captors – with the exception of the leader, they all looked the same – forcefully pushing Ironhide, Wheeljack, and Optimus Prime into the messy chamber.

"You're gonna need a bigger boat," the leader smirked down at them from his throne, which appeared to be made of litter, and placed the bewildered Aussie on his lap.

"We mean you know harm," Optimus held his hands up, as if to show he had no weapons. As if he weren't a giant robot killing machine. "We just want Maggie back, then we'll leave your kind be."

"Keh," Ironhide grunted. Wheeljack elbowed the weapons specialist in the side. The leader of Maggie's captors leered down at them, as if trying to decide whether to ignore them or kill them.

"Wait," Optimus opened a little door in his arm that Maggie had never noticed before. Holding out a small, glowing object, he turned to his companions. "I have an idea… Bah weep granna weep ninny bong."

The guards – for what else could they be called – looked at the Autobot leader incredulously. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for who knew what. What the hell was Optimus doing?

Wheeljack and Ironhide exchanged looks, and the engineer repeated, unsure, "Bah weep granna… weep ninny bong?"

Her captor, however, grinned jovially. Placing Maggie down gently, he jumped up and landed at the feet of Optimus Prime. He was about the same height as Hot Rod. "Bah weep granna weep ninny bong!" he exclaimed, gladly taking the glowing object that the Autobot leader offered him.

"Bah weep granna weep ninny bong!" his guards cheered.

Maggie couldn't believe it. What the hell was going on?

--

Universal greeting aside, it had taken a few minutes to coax the Junkions – that was what they were called – out of their cave dwelling home. Though the gag and rope were gone, Maggie was still constantly held by the Junkion leader, who would not let her go, and so Optimus had instead decided it best to introduce the Junkions to the Autobots.

They, unlike the Autobots, had learned Earth languages by watching television and listening to the radio. Because of this, many of them quickly grew fond of Blaster. Their home planet of "Junk" had crashed into the Earth long ago – killing the last dinosaurs – and they'd dwelled underground since then. It was Asimo's signal as it tried understanding their writings that had set off this whole chain of events. But to be fair, it wasn't the little Japanese robot's fault.

Messy things by nature, they kept the Asimo busy for the next few days. But, aside from Ironhide and Ratchet, they quickly earned the trust of the Autobots when they were able to fix Jazz, rebuilding him as a Porsche. However, Maggie didn't have much of a chance to get reacquainted with her old friend, as Prowl didn't let the Porsche out of his sight. And, well, the Junkion leader didn't let her out of _his_ sight. And it soon became obvious why:

"Why me?" she asked him one night. He – Wreck-Gar, he was called – recharged in her room along with Asimo, both refusing to leave her. It delighted Wreck-Gar how flustered she'd get when she caught him peering at her in the bathroom.

"To have and to hold!" was his jolly reply. Maggie blushed.

"Wh-what?" she sputtered, blushing even more when he pushed his face closer to hers.

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart? I'm after a prize tonight! Be my lover and I'll cover you! Second star to the right and straight on til morning!"

Maggie was unsure how to reply. Wreck-Gar would never hurt her, but he never made any sense, either. She really _really_ hoped she was misunderstanding him right now, because to her it looked like the Junkion king wanted her as his queen.

"I'm not sure I understand…" She knew one thing from hanging with the Autobots, and it was that kissing was not something any of them found romantic in any way. Most mechs were disgusted by the primitive display, and though it fascinated both Hot Rod and Ratchet, no mech had ever actually _tried_, despite Mikaela and Sam's teasing.

"I'm so sure you do," Wreck-Gar retorted. "You're the cheese to my macaroni!"

Oh, that was just great. She _was_ understanding correctly.

"Look, Wreck-Gar, I'm flattered. Ridgy didge, I am. But I just don't think it'll work out between us. And, I mean, why would you pursue me? You're a mech! Why not someone like Arcee!"

"Gentleman prefer blondes. It's not the years, honey. It's the mileage."

"You're hardly a gentleman! And I'm not robosexual!"

"Baby, you look like you could use a stiff one!"

"_Definitely_ not a gentleman!" now she was getting flustered, while he, as usual, just seemed amused.

"I'm not bad," his optics flashed, giving her room a faint red glow. "I'm just drawn that way! And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!"

She could feel his surprisingly warm metallic fingers gently and slowly trailing up her leg, towards her skirt. "Wr-Wreck-Gar! Are you listening? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Do I make you horny, baby? Do I make you randy? There's a lot of things about me you don't know anything about. Things you wouldn't understand. Things you couldn't understand. Things you shouldn't understand."

"Wreck-Gar, please be serious! I don't understand you and your random quotes! This isn't a movie – aah!" She gasped as one of his elegant fingers slipped up her skirt. "St-stop!" Oh, god, it felt so weird, so wrong, so out-of-place, so…

…nice?

"Wreck-Gar!" she gasped again, surprised at herself. "The others are trying to sleep – don't make me do that…"

"Don't let the neighbours stop you from having fun. They'll have peace and quiet when you're good and done. You can be as loud as the hell you want when you're making love!"

"Making _what?_" she squeaked indignantly as his hands continued to roam her body. It wasn't fair – how was she supposed to argue with her captor if he kept touching her like that?

"A kiss, a kiss! My kingdom for a kiss!"

"Th-that's not how that one goes…"

"Mm," Wreck-Gar smirked. "I know. But I don't care. We all go a little mad sometimes."

"Wreck-Gar, I really don't want…"

"Maggie… you complete me," He stopped moving his hands and stared at her, red optics into aquamarine eyes. And in the red, Maggie saw something that almost looked sincere. He continued, "You need to be kissed. And often. And by someone who knows how."

She placed her hand on the part of his that wasn't in her skirt and looked away. In the few days since she'd met him, she'd come to think of the Junkion leader as a friend, albeit an odd one. And he was making her feel damn good right now. But was she really prepared to begin a real romantic relationship?

The answer that her heart gave her was that she'd waited too damn long.

"Alright," she whispered. "I'll be your girlfriend, if that's really what you want…"

--

The twins smirked at each other as they snuck around that night. Since Jazz had woken up, Prowl had been too busy to catch Sunstreaker or Sideswipe, especially at night, like now. Phase 1 of their latest prank on Ratchet was complete. Now, if they could just get down the corrider to finish phase 2…

'_Sunny…'_ Sideswipe communicated mentally with his brother, as they usually did when they were alone. _'Sunny, did you hear that?'_

'_It's just Maggie. You know how humans are when they get those urges. Or maybe you don't. We can't all be as attractive as me, you know.'_

'_Shut up. We're twins, stupid!'_

Before Sunstreaker could retort, they heard another voice coming from the direction of Maggie's room, as full of desire as the female's had been:

"I'm the king of the woooorld!" this more masculine voice that was definitely _not_ Maggie's wailed. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exchanged looks of disgust, both thinking the same thing:

'_Primus, what the slag are they _doing_!?'_

-_fin_-

**Don't ask how it'd be possible. I have no idea. My god, Wreck-Gar is a huge challenge to write!**


	2. Mental Mind Fk

**It started with a PM wondering if this would just be a one-shot. I don't remember who it was that PMed me (You can't honestly expect me to remember this stuff!), but I believe my reply was yes, it's just a one-shot. Well… Maggie and Wreck-Gar continued to dance around my brain, so… Sorry. I lied. Not a one-shot. So to all the reviews/PMs/DA notes/e-mails I received, I take it back. "Queen of Junk" continues!**

**Just so you know, this is still crack. So it definitely isn't meant to be taken seriously. I don't take it seriously, and I'm writing it. All of Wreck-Gar's quotes come from my head, cos I'm just that dumb that I can retain snippets from movies instead of stuff I should know for school. Ditto for whenever Maggie uses Aussie slang. I memorised a bunch of that stuff when I was writing a comic called "Transfans" for my friend Ashley. The comic… took place in Australia…**

**To answer a question I'm sure you all have, I chose to write about Maggie and Wreck-Gar because neither character gets half the love they deserve. And I'm a sucker for outrageous pairings that could never happen. (I also like Wreck-Gar with Soundwave, though I can't find it anywhere...)**

**According to the box my movie-verse Arcee came in (she's a motorcycle!), she is, indeed, some sorta bounty hunter. So I don't want any complaints on that detail!**

**I don't own "Transformers", the Honda Asimo, or a majority of Wreck-Gar's dialogue.**

**--**

Their relationship was, for lack of a better word on her part, absolutely bonzer! That something so unnatural should be so divine was nothing short of unexpected. That isn't to say that she screamed it from the rooftops, though. Far from it. The only beings, to Maggie's knowledge, who knew of her relationship with Wreck-Gar were Wreck-Gar, herself, and the Asimo, who – the poor thing – had been in the room with them when they had first hooked up. She hoped it had been "asleep", but it was hard to tell, since it didn't have a face.

For now, nobody could know. And nobody would know (save for, of course, the twins, but Maggie didn't know that yet), until, of course, Glen came back from his convention.

"Oh my god," he gaped at her upon his arrival at the Autobot base. He didn't live there like she did, but visited quite a bit. "Oh my _freaking_ god, Maggie – you're getting laid!"

"Ex_cuse_ me!?" Mikaela and Sam said in unison, staring at Maggie in shock. Everyone who had been there at her welcome-home was present for Glen's as well.

"H-how can you even _say_ that!?" Maggie sputtered, going red. From where he was leaning against a wall, Wreck-Gar smirked, optics glowing as crimson as his girlfriend's face, but other than that he gave no indication that he'd heard. He knew better than that.

"You _are_! Look at how red you're getting! Ratch-man, read her hormone levels or whatever – Maggie, the most frigid prude on the planet, is getting laid!"

"I should slap you," she muttered, glaring daggers at her friend, who didn't seem to care. "Nobody was supposed to find out."

"Find out what?" Bumblebee looked at her oddly, causing her to blush deeper, if it were even possible. The ex-Camaro-turned-Volkswagen was so childlike and naïve; not at all like _him_.

"Nothing," she insisted. "Glen, shut up."

"Aw, but Mags…"

"Shut up! Go talk to someone else!"

"But they all see me before I left! You were in Japan!"

"Someone else!" she repeated, glaring. He sighed, sadly, and she felt a twinge of remorse. "Sorry, but by jingoes, you've got a big mouth…"

He shrugged, made his rounds, greeted all the Autobots and presented souvenirs, and then everyone went back to what they'd been doing before Blurr had brought Glen to the Autobot HQ. Eventually, it ended up as it always was when Maggie wasn't busy with work – or, lately, with a certain Junkion leader – with her, Glen, Mikaela, Sam, and Bumblebee all conversing in the corner. Except today they were joined by Asimo, Arcee, and Hot Rod (who followed Arcee around half the time anyway).

"So," Sam turned to Maggie, grinning, "who is it?"

"What?" she stared at him, trying her hardest not to blush again. Trying her hardest and failing miserably. "No. I'm not…"

"Oh, cut the crap, yes you are," Glen rolled his eyes.

"I can understand not wanting someone older like Optimus or Ratchet to know, but we're your friends," Arcee stated, Hot Rod and Mikaela nodding vehemently to show they agreed with everything the pink bounty hunter said.

"It's nobody," Maggie said quickly, shooting a glance across the room to where her "nobody" was conversing with Wheeljack and Blurr. Thank Primus – no, thank _god_ – he wasn't staring at her, as he was so apt to do.

It had only been a fraction of a second, but Sam had caught it:

"Oh my g– ew!" he shuddered. "Ew, ew, _ew_! Are you _serious_!?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" Mikaela looked at her boyfriend as if he'd just grown tentacles on his chin, a la Davy Jones.

"Shit," Maggie concluded, realising Sam knew who had, as Glen had so eloquently put it, "laid" her.

"Well? Who is it?" Bumblebee looked down at his human, curiosity piqued. When Sam motioned for the VeeDub to come closer and whispered into his audio receptors, Bumblebee's door-wing's twitched and he shrugged. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I could see that. What's wrong with that?"

"Wha – nothing, it's just so _ew_!"

"You're being immature," Bumblebee's door-wings drooped. "I don't see anything wrong with an organic and a mech in love."

"What!?" Maggie and Glen both shrieked.

"It's not love! We're just seeing each other!" the Aussie exclaimed at the same time Glen demanded, "Whaddya mean a 'mech'? Like a _robot_?!"

"Okay, _now_ I'm curious," Hot Rod stared at Maggie, expecting answers.

"Me too," Arcee smiled sweetly, a smile that could fool anyone into believing that the femme was sweet as sugar. "You don't really seem any closer to any mechs than you did before, unless it's…" she trailed off, then gasped. "Really!?"

Maggie nodded miserably. Ugh, this was so humiliating.

"I don't get it," Mikaela furrowed her brow.

"You might as well just _say_ it, cos I'm dying to know, and I bet Mikaela and Hot Rod are too!" Glen exclaimed.

The blonde sighed, defeated. "Oh, fine. Bunch o' babies. I'm fucking Wreck-Gar! Are you happy?"

There was a short pause before Mikaela broke the silence:

"Well, if it makes you happy, than I'm happy for you. But… um… how would that _work_?"

Maggie looked down at the floor, blushing. How was she supposed to _answer_ that? But luckily – or perhaps unluckily, she wasn't sure – Hot Rod interjected:

"Well, you know mechs have certain wires under our plating that'd be pretty sensitive if anyone – organic or not – were to touch them. And our fingers are a pretty good size for human fingers to – "

"Hot Rod!" Arcee scolded, upon seeing the mortified looks on Sam's and Glen's faces. Maggie and Mikaela exchanged looks as Arcee continued to berate Hot Rod, in Cybertronian. Bumblebee looked amused.

"Oh, no," the British accent made Maggie jump as she felt Wreck-Gar's fingers lightly rest upon her head. "Go on. A mental mind-fuck can be nice."

"I take it this is Wreck-Gar?" Glen questioned, taking the new mech in. "Mags, he's got… red eyes…"

"Optics," she corrected. "And I assure you, he's pretty much harmless if you're on his good side."

"If she weighed the same as a duck, she's made of wood!" Wreck-Gar smiled down at the new human, who looked genuinely confused.

"He, ah," Maggie looked unsure as she explained, "seems to only speak in, ah… movie and TV quotes…"

"How can you trust what he says is genuine?" Glen glared, not taking this new development well. Dammit, Maggie was supposed to be _his_, not some mental robot's!

"I'm not really asking you to trust me, am I?" Wreck-Gar smirked, than swept up his girlfriend and walked off as Maggie, halfway over his shoulder, protested loudly and the little Asimo jumped up and followed its owner faithfully.

Mikaela made a mental note on how upset Glen seemed. It was no secret he liked Maggie – in fact, only the Aussie herself seemed oblivious to it. Poor guy.

"Y'know," Bumblebee spoke, watching as Wreck-Gar disappeared behind a corner, "someone really should report this."

"Right," Mikaela scoffed. "Like Optimus would get it."

-_TBC_-

**This was just a transition chapter, nothing fancy. Coming up in later chapters… Maggie wants to know if Wreck-Gar loves her. Prowl has "the talk" with the Junkion. The girls read "Cosmopolitan". Wreck-Gar is introduced to "Red vs Blue". A flying car fights a certain Mustang! (It's up to you reviewers which of those situations comes first…)**

**Also… How will the Autobots take this crack!pairing? And will Bumblebee ever be a Camaro again? All this and more when the junk that I like to call "Queen of Junk" continues!**

**Yay for "Transformers" crack!**


	3. Starting ASAP

**It would seem that a majority of you want to see Prowl being all fatherly and giving Wreck-Gar "the talk". So... I did the best I could. I'm afraid it's not too good... but I TRIED!**

**Can we just all agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply?**

**--**

"Wreck-Gar."

"Yyyes?" The Junkion turned on his heel to see the Autobot second-in-command staring him in the optics. Prowl was a little shorter than him, but was still intimidating to most. Of course, the Junkion king wasn't fazed.

"It's been brought to my attention that you and Maggie are... _together_..." Prowl said slowly, as if his CPU just couldn't wrap around the idea of a human with a mech.

"When you ask a question you expect an answer. That's the way it works... question, answer, answer, question. If he gave the answer, I'd have to come up with the question. That would be Jeopardy. That's wrong."

"Yes, well, it's rather..." Prowl's CPU whirred as he searched wiktionary for the right word. _Illogical?_ No, that'd be offensive, and there was no telling what the possibly bipolar mech in front of him would do. Eventually he decided on, "concerning."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"I'm serious," the cop deadpanned.

"As am I! It's not easy having a good time! Even smiling makes my face ache!"

"Do you realise that she's an organic? What may be a shoort fling to you lasts many of her years! And after you get bored and cast her aside, then what?"

"I smell a spinoff..."

"Wreck-Gar!" His logic processers sparked warningly. "Maggie's life isn't a joke."

Unusually, Wreck-Gar didn't have a reply to that. The amused look dropped from his face and his optics darkened as he glared. Prowl waited for him to say something, refusing to break his stare. In some cultures that was a sign of submission. Wreck-Gar gestured over to where Maggie was just walking into the common room with Asimo and those other flesh-creatures who paled in comparison with the one he'd chosen. "Look at that. Look at how she moves. that's just like Jell-O on springs!"

Prowl glared, unamused. Wreck-Gar now looked furious.

"I want everything I've ever seen in the movies!" The Junkion shouted.

"And I don't want to see one of our most valued allies getting hurt," Prowl countered. "Do you realise what you're doing? Do you ever stop to think?"

"I don't know. I'm making this up as I go. But I'm keeping her forever and for always."

The 2IC sighed. "You say that now, but in a few orns, then what? Especially in such a fast-moving relationship - if she ends up hurt, Wreck-Gar..."

In a rare occurence, the Junkion lowed his voice so that Prowl had to lean in a little just to catch what he was saying. "When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. He is not a lover who does not love forever."

--

"No. I'm working." Though her time off had been nice, Maggie had a crapload of files downloaded from the corpse of that _thing_ to translate. Files that could be of use to both the Autobots and the US goverment if she could just... figure out... that one sequence...

"I'd hate to take a bite out of you," Wreck-Gar pouted. "You're a cookie full of arsenic." He hated when Maggie turned him down. Hated it, hated it, hated it. The insatiable perv.

"Glad to hear we're on the same wavelength," she muttered, only half-paying attention. Wreck-Gar sighed and lay back on the bigger berth he'd had moved in here, frightening the Asimo. This amused him for about five seconds before he again turned to his girlfriend, reaching over to poke her back lightly.

She turned, face scrunched up and hair messy from anger and stretch. "Damn it, Wreck-Gar, I said no! Go bother someone else!"

"I don't want to stop. I like it. Take the picture, take the picture. Give yourself over to absolute pleasure!"

"Unless you can crack Decepticon codes, I don't want another word out of you!"

Giving up... for now... he forced himself into recharge. Maggie'd have a go when he woke up. Or so he thought...

...when he was fully recharged, she hadn't budged. Unlike the other mechs, he didn't have an internal chronometer, but he could tell that it was late. Too late. He wouldn't be getting any tonight... or rather, this morning.

"Maggie?"

"EEYAH!" The blonde shrieked, not expecting the sudden noise. "My god, you _scared_ me!"

"When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake."

"I just have a bit more to go, then I'll go to sleep, I promise. It's just that, I thought I'd figured out the little fucker's access code, but what I really did was erase all my progress and I had to start the fucking thing all over again!"

"The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night's sleep," he tried again ,beginning to worry. He hadn't even _needed_ to recharge, and he had! But she was a human, and if all the commercials for sleeping pills were any indication, this was important for them to do on a regular basis.

"In a minute," She turned back to that stupid laptop. He frowned. What did that machine have that he didn't?

"Don't touch that dial," he commanded.

"Don't tell me what to do," she countered.

"But I'm micro-_soft_!"

Maggie groaned, and went back to her laptop, groaning again when she realised she'd read the same frequence over three times.

Wreck Gar twirled his whiskers between his fingers, optics getting brighter. This wasn't going the way he wanted it. And he hated not getting what he wanted. "Damn it, that's pissing me off like fat free sour cream!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I have a responsibility! It's called a job, Wreck-Gar, and I can't just drop it whenever you feel like copping a feel!"

"'Copping a feel'?" He snorted, though it really came out sounding like an odd "czzz" sound. He jumped up, slammed the laptop closed, transformed and sped away screaming "All the old knives that have rusted in my back, I drive in yours! Victory shall be mine!" as she cursed.

"Damn it, Wreck-Gar!" She yelled out the door after him, though at the speed he was going, he was probbly long gone. "Rrrrgh... you're _impossible_!"

-_TBC_-

**Sadly, that took about four hours, and it was still utter crap. I guess I just wasn't meant to write today. But oh well. Hopefully next chapter will be better... I'll be crossing my fingers...**

**Coming soon (which would y'like next?)... Autobots and Decepticons aren't the only talking vehicles around. Wreck-Gar confuses the Decepticons. Maggie's workload causes her to forget her own birthday. Wreck-Gar wants to know what Maggie is talking about when she says she's "PMS-ing." ****Maggie wants to know if Wreck-Gar loves her. Mikaela introduces Arcee and Maggie to "Cosmopolitan". AND WHATEVER OTHER CRAZY SITUATIONS I CAN THINK OF.**


	4. OMGWTFBBQ?

**WELL. Here we are. At chapter 4. Goodness me. Also, I noticed a typo back in chapter 2. Back when Hot Rod was talking about the size of their fingers? The second time he says fingers, he's supposed to have said FEMALES. It makes the comment dirty, but... he's blunt like that...**

**Maggie gets bad cramps like I did before I went on the Pill. Poor girl... And, whoops, the lesser Junkions have dissappeared! In my head, they just chose to remain underground. When he isn't hanging with Maggie and the Autobots, Wreck-Gar watches TV with them, of course.**

**And OOH, I'm SO MAD that the dashes I use for scene changes don't work anymore! It makes all my work, this included (as well as my other major projects, "Twenty", "Wonderwall", and "Through Glass") look like scribbled down garbage! Rrrr... Oh well. Now I use "oOo". Still, I'm rather upset about it. Stupid people who operate the site...**

**Can we just all agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply?**

oOo

Crap. Crap. Crap-o.

The word kept repeating itself in her mind as she lay in her bed hunched over in pain. Oh, god, oh, _god_, the pain. Excrutiating, unbearable pain, as if she was being torn in half, or digested alive from the inside out by a man-eating plant from some old B-movie, or... Oh, _god_!

She moaned as the Asimo looked down on her, concerned. It didn't have pain receptors, so it couldn't comprehend what was the matter. It had never seen its master in such a state of pain that she could hardly register her surroundings. She didn't even sit up to greet her boyfriend when they entered the room, for crying out loud!

She moaned again, starting to feel nauseous, when she suddenly felt a large, metal finger trailing up her leg.

"Wreck-Gar. Not now," she muttered, wincing as if she'd just been stabbed.

"I don't want to stop. I like it. Take the picture, take the picture."

"I said not now!" God, he was just so impossible at times. "I'm not in the mood, and I don't think you want blood all over you!"

Wreck-Gar looked down at her quizically. He couldn't imagine why she'd lay in such a pose. It didn't seem like it would be comfortable. Unlike Cybertronians, Junkions didn't have the ability to scan others' internals, and so, seeing as he had limited knowledge of organics, he had no way of knowing her predicament. He cocked his head, wondering whether or not she'd allow him to use his facial wires to feel for abnormalities. Last time he'd tried, she'd tugged. That had been rather unpleasant.

He was snapped out of such thoughts when she gasped in pain. Well, that didn't sound too good.

"Cramps..." she offered as a weak explanation, but he wasn't sure of what those were, either. Oh, sure, he'd seen commercials for medications that dealt with cramps, but none of the commercials ever really said what that _was._

At any rate, whatever caused cramps was making Maggie upset, and if she was upset, it meant he wasn't getting any. And he didn't like that.

"Nothing breaks up a partnership faster than... herpes!" He concluded, thinking out loud.

Had she not been in pain, Maggie would have either laughed or been offended. "It's not an STD. Just... PMS..."

"STD? PMS? ABC! Coming up next on ABC..."

"Go ask Ratchet..." she muttered before succumbing once again to the pain.

Wreck-Gar dimmed his optics. He didn't like asking Ratchet. The Junkions had it built into them that they could repair anything, and in record time, and so to him the Autobot medic was inferior. Then again, Ratchet did know quite a bit about viruses. And organics... Hm...

oOo

"Wreck-Gar!" Ratchet seemed surprised, looking up from where he was doing a routine check-up on Wheeljack's vocal indicators. Nearby, Mikaela was doing homework. She liked to hang out with the Autobot medic. "What brings you to my med bay?"

"PMS," The Junkion offered bluntly. Nearby, Mikaela snorted, trying to keep from laughing. Ratchet looked bewildered.

"I'm... sorry?" he asked, logic processors sparking warningly.

"No offense, but I doubt that's possible for you," Wheeljack offered, before getting a wrench in the head. Ow! Oh yeah, he was supposed to be quiet...

"Premenstrual syndrome - or PMS - is a collection of physical, psychological, and emotional symptoms related to a woman's menstral cycle. For some women with PMS, the symptoms are so severe that they are considered disabling. This form of PMS has its own psychiatric designation: premenstrual dysphoric disorder," Ratchet explained, reading directly from a downloaded article. "Though, I must admit, I'm curious as to why you'd care, Wreck-Gar."

"Her head don't come off," Wreck-Gar responded, shrugging nonchalantly. "I know what we can do. Take off her head!"

"That's from 'Labyrinth'," Mikaela noted. "Are you talking about Maggie?"

All three mechs turned to her. The brunette was a lot more perceptive than she let on.

Three pairs of optics focused on her, Mikaela shifted uncomfortably. "...what? Didn't you think her spending so much time in her room was abnormal?"

"Strangely, in slow motion replay, the ball seemed to hang in the air even longer..." Wreck-Gar muttered to himself, loud enough for the others in the room to hear.

"Do you have a heating pad?" Mikaela asked, eager to help. She hated seeing anyone in pain.

The expression Wreck-Gar gave her told her that no, he didn't have a heating pad. She sighed.

"Oh, I know! Heat yourself up and use your hands instead!" Wheeljack interjected, only to get hit in the head again. "Ow! I wish you'd stop _doing _that, Ratch!"

"I wouldn't have to if you'd silence your vocaliser!"

"But how would he heat himslf up?" Mikaela wondered. "You mean like heating his engine? Cos that might burn. Or maybe mastu-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Ratchet pleaded.

"Hey," Wreck-Gar countered. "Don't criticize my mess unless you'd like to become part of it!"

"And I _really_ do not want to know what you meant by that..." the medic muttered. Thankfully, most of the Autobots were used to Wreck-Gar's random speech-patterns by now.

oOo

Maggie opened her eyes wearily. The last thing she remembered before she'd succumbed to sleep was... the intense pain somehow being _lifted_ by a warm pressure... Looking down, she saw a mechanical hand resting gently on her abdomen. She followed the arm up to the shoulder and the face, looking into the dimmed red optics of her lover.

"Wreck-Gar?" she questioned. It was unlike him to sit still when there wasn't a television involved. "Wreck-Gar, how did you...?"

"It's true," he said gently, smiling down on her. "I chopped him up. But I didn't kill him."

"You made the pain stop," she smiled back, placing her hand on his, where it looked rather small in comparison. She grabbed his finger and lifted it to her face, kissing it and saying, "Thank you. I never get a chance to tel you how much I appreciate you. I really do."

With that revelation, the Junkion's optics brightened and his gentle smile turned into an evil smirk. Maggie knew that look and she knew it well.

"No."

"C'mon, baby, don't be afraid - if it wasn't for date rape, I'd never get laid!"

She glared. Grateful or not, what a poor choice of words. "Guess what you're not getting for the next week an' a half!"

Sincerely, he replied, "Milk, chocolate, or lemonade?" She blanched, even though she knew it was just a quote.

"You're dis_gust_ing."

-_TBC_-

**Short chapter, but do you have any idea how much hell it gave me? Bet you can't identify that last quote! It's obscure, but I was too tempted to use it. So I did. Yes, Wreck-Gar is a perv. I just see him as a bit of a sex-addict, sorry. Besides, it amuses me.**

**There probably will be between 2 and 4 chapters after this. I don't want to drag it out very long. It's crack, after all. And I'm still debating whether or not I wanna try and get our favourite uptight Aussie in a wedding gown... Teehee...**


	5. How to Please Your Junkion

**Have any of you read the novelisation of the movie? I just got it from the library and read it (twice...). It's based off the original screenplay rather than the final one, so... it was interesting. (Before Maggie was casted, so she's still American. She didn't become Aussie til the filmmakers chose Rachael Taylor - who is gorgeous.) Anyway, I'll be throwing a couple references of it into this chapter for those who have read it. For those who haven't, don't worry. They're minour references. Still, check it out if your local library/bookstore has a copy, y'dig?**

**Finally, the 'cons make an appearance! Probably their last, as well. I don't like movieverse Screamer's design, and thus he's troublesome for me. I don't know how this works. But, just as the Autobots have gotten reinforcements, so have the Decepticons! Mostly from G1, although I yanked two from Animated cos they amuse me so. (Well, also cos BlackArachnia is a great contrast to Arcee. And Cree Summer is her voice! I love Cree Summer...)**

**That was a real Cosmo article. And while those weren't the worst tips, they seemed the most awkward. If I have to up the rating cos of it, tell me and I will. I don't think it's that big of a deal, though, honestly. Also, I can't write battle scenes. Not that it matters, cos this **_**is**_** a comedy. I think. My stepdad helped me out with it this time around, and as thanks, I put a little homage to his work, Lockheed Martin, in there as well. The company helped a lot with the movie, though unfortunately, not my stepdad's division... yet... (I'm crossing my fingers.) The company makes F-22s! Among other things, but F-22s are pretty cool looking as planes. Not as mechs, apparently, but ah well.**

**The crack continues! YAY! I love movieverse crack, though I don't know why...**

**Can we just all agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply?**

oOo

It was a normal day at Autobot HQ. In other words, it was an extremely _boring_ day. The latest asignment Keller had given her hadn't really taken a lot of time at all (being used to working with alien documents, a South Korean one was child's play to her), so even Maggie had nothing to do. Technically, since the lesser Junkions regarded her as some sort of queen, she probably could have went into the underground caverns and watched TV with them, but she didn't particularly like being around them very much. They were nice enough, but they kind of wigged her out.

And thus she was up here chatting with Mikaela and Arcee while Sam, Glen, Bumblebee, and Hot Rod conversed nearby. Girls and boys. The Asimo was helping Prowl clean up after the twins' last prank, which had landed them, as well as the vengeful Ironhide, in the brig. The weapons specialist probably hadn't been the best choice of victim, but the Disaster Duo rarely thought anything through.

Anyway, Mikaela had got it into her pretty head that all three females needed a little extra "spice" in their love lives (even though Arcee insisted she didn't have one anyway), and was currently perusing the latest issue of Cosmopolitan:

"'Their All Time Favourite Matress Moves - Revealed'? What...?" Maggie read over her younger friend's shoulder. "Sorry, but I'm afraid this won't be of any use to anyone but you."

"Not true," Mikaela countered. "You just need to learn to apply things. We have ears, they have audials. We have 'hot spots', they have 'hot wires'. That kind of a thing."

"What's a matress?" Arcee scoffed. Her query went unanswered, as Mikaela felt the need to read the first "tip" out loud:

"Sandy, age 29, says, 'When I put my finger in my girl, she inserted one of her digits so I could feel our fingers together.' And Ian, age 18, says that 'There's something so taboo about a girl giving or... um... you know... from behind.'"

"That's gross," Maggie continued to read alongside Mikaela. "Who _does _that?"

"Guess we yanks are crazy, eh, mate?" Mikaela grinned, purposely doing a horrible job at the accent imitation.

"Please," the actual Aussie wasn't amused. "That wasn't even a worthy Cockney. I'm from Busselton; went to secondary school in Sydney, though..."

"What do Sandy and Ian _mean _by that?" Arcee's logic processor began sending warning signals. Great, now she knew how Prowl felt - not a feeling she'd wanted to experience ever.

The boys were, for once, having a considerably cleaner conversation, though not necessarily a better one...

"I swear to god, man!" Glen held up both hands to feign innocence. "I swear! She did when I met her! I have pics if you don't believe me!"

"I still don't believe you," Sam bit back laughter at the image of Maggie with green hair and a nose ring.

"Yeah? What'll you see _this,_" Glen pulled out his latest iPod, the new nano, and began looking at the photos he'd stored on it. "It transcends belief."

"Is that Mags!?" Sam's eyes bugged out. Bee and Hot Rod exchanged bored glances. Sam's eyes were locked on the image of Maggie in a bikini, cuddling a pug to her chest, while his brain was locked on the idea of recreating the photo with Mikaela... him being the pug, of course.

"Is _what _Mags?" Maggie looked up from the magazine that Mikaela and Arcee were trying to make sense of. "Glen, you absolute _drongo_! Why do you have those!?"

While the two bickered, Arcee looked at Hot Rod for clarification. "She modeled," Hot Rod poked a thumb in Maggie's direction, and the pink femme nodded her understanding.

"Oh, _slag_!"

The sudden outburst made the seven turn their heads towards the door of the common room. All optics and eyes and other visual appendages were on the door, actually. There were two things that could make Wheeljack say such a thing, and had it been the first reason, an explosion would have already followed. Which meant it was the second reason.

"Decepticons!" Tracks exclaimed, the first to react. All at once, the Autobots were at their feet, running and rolling after the engineer to defend the base. Bumblebee, before running to join the battle, urged his human friends to safety. But Maggie hesitated.

"Maggie!" Glen tried to pull her by the wrist, but she pulled away. "Okay, so you're pissed, but come _on_, before one of the smaller ones gets into here or something!"

"Where is he?" she whispered.

"What?"

"Wreck-Gar!" she bolted towards the door, not really knowing why she did it. But her boyfriend wasn't an Autobot, wasn't accostomed to fighting Decepticons. To be fair, neither was she, but that didn't register in her brain. All she knew at the moment was that she had to make sure he was okay.

"Mags! He'll be fine! Where are you going!?"

oOo

Wreck-Gar was actually quite fine. Not that he had anything personal against the Decepticons, but he knew that Maggie didn't like them, and he also knew they'd squish her in a second. And, well, he wouldn't have that.

Starscream was hovering nearby, shouting orders and shooting from afar, like the coward he was. Blaster was fighting his rival, the Decepticon Soundwave, a tricked-out SUV. Arcee was engaged in knife combat with one of few Decepticon femmes, BlackArachnia. The newly-repared Frenzy and his less-spastic brothers Rumble and Ravage kept many an Autobot busy, as did Brawl (who still was deluded enough to call himself Devastator), Onslaught, Blast Off, Swindle, Vortex, and the triple-changer Octane. Wreck-Gar soon himself was dealing with the triple-changer Blitzwing and what looked to be the Decepticon version of Prowl, Barricade. Or rather, he approached them as they argued amongst themselves. This would be fun.

"Gentlemen!" he cried out, calling attention to himself. "You can't fight in here. This is the War Room!" The Decepticons before him exchanged looks. They weren't even inside, let alone in a war room. The mech with facial wires continued, "Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria! When you've got it, baby, flaunt it, flaunt it!"

"Great..." Barricade groaned to himself. "Just what I need - another Blitzwing."

Blitzwing whirled his face around to show a new one - a red, angry one - and yelled, "Hey! I resemble zat remark!" His face whirled again, back to the calmer, blueish-grey one. "No matter - ve vill slaughter zis foolish Autobot nonezeless."

"Blitzwing, you idiot, behind yo-!"

"All you people can bte my germ-free booty!" Wreck-Gar exclaimed, using one of the spiked wheels of his alt-mode (they were on his arms when in bipedal mode) to bludgeon the mentally-ill triple-changer in the back of the head. "I will give you an honour of a quick and painless death... but not with that! Let's show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown."

Blitzwing responded by switching faces again - to a black one this time - and laughing as Wreck-Gar joyously bludgeoned him repeatedly.

Barricade sighed. "I am surrounded by utter fools... still, Blitzwing was right about one thing. The Autobot must be destroyed," he shot at Wreck-Gar, who proceeded to blow into pieces.

A shriek erupted from behind a rock. Luckily, Barricade was the only who heard the frightened girl, and he had better things to do than waste time on pathetic fleshworms.

Behind said rock, Maggie burst into tears. No... it couldn't be...

"You came in that thing?" The English accent shocked both the human behind the rock and the two Decepticons who were about to go fight other mechs. They all looked on in shock as the pieces of the Junkion reassembled themselves, and Wreck-Gar smirked, optics glinting evilly. "You're braver than I thought. You wanna dance, or would you rather just suck face?"

"Holy Fatherland!" Blitzwing's "crazy face" shrieked before erupting into uninteligible babbling.

"Impossible," Barricade growled. "Autobot! How are you alive!?"

"Would it help to confuse it if we ran away more? Give me your hammer, and I will build an aircraft for you. Give me your daughter, and I'll make the crew," was the Junkion king's oh-so-eloquent reply.

"I don't get it," Blitzwing switched to the calm face. "Explain yourself."

Wreck-Gar's optics blazed and his facial wires began curling up at the ends as he bared his dental plates. Those familiar with Junkion body language would recognise this as "murder mode".

Noticing the red optics, Barricade shouted out, "He's not an Autobot!?"

"Where we're going," Wreck-Gar said slowly, as he began re-routing energy to his battle systems, "we won't need roads." And just as the two Decepticons thought to try and escape this crazy unknown mech, he shouted, "Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!"

oOo

Ratchet, with the help of Wheeljack, Mikaela, and Lockheed Martin's SkunkWorks, sure had a lot of work cut out for him after the battle, but at least there were no casualties. Starscream had called retreat when he realised that he was out-numbered.

Maggie had never been more relieved in her life.

"Wreck-Gar!" She all but threw herself into his arms, and he caught her with ease. It was uncharicteristic for the normally serious blonde, but she didn't care. She was just so glad he was alive. "Don't scare me like that again, you twit!" At Wreck-Gar's feet, the Asimo twittered angrily, and he gladly scooped it up as well, grinning at Maggie all the while.

"Hey, uh, Wreck-Gar, right?"

The Junkion turned, still holding the Aussie and her little robot, to face one of the younger Autobots. He said nothing, waiting for a reply. The young, blue Autobot shrunk into himself a little before blurting out:

"Isawwhatyoudidonthebattlefieldanditwaskindascarybutreally,really,reallycool,y'know? IforonehadnoideaJunkionscoulddothatandIthinkit'sreallyneattoseeandIwasjustwonderingifallJunkionscoulddothatorjustyouorohhellneverminditwasjustSOCOOL!"

Maggie smiled at Blurr, who nodded to acknowledge her, and then walked over to where he was being beckoned to by another Autobot. Wreck-Gar turned to Maggie and nuzzled her gently.

"Wreck-Gar!" She whisper-shouted. "Stop that! Not all of the Autobots know that we're... you know..."

"Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness?" He replied with a smirk.

-_TBC-_

**Everyone together now: D'awwwwwwwww! Yes, Maggie was a model to help pay rent when she first came to America. It's canon. And I love crazy Blitzwing. Bet Barricade hates him, but I love him. He cracks me up more than psycho Galvatron. Next chapter - the secret is out! Will all the Autobots take to this taboo relationship kindly? Well, this is a crack!fic, so no major drama, but still... Actually, probably not even much minour drama. Just a bit of awkward tension, really. I'll shut up now so as not to spoil it.**

**I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. I really wanted an excuse to write in more ways that Junkions differ from Cybertronians. (Different planet, different species.) So far, I think I've established that they have facial wires and exceptional repair abilities, they lack scanners, and they can reassemble themselves in record time. **


	6. You Need a Bit of Shock Treatment

**For those of you who read my other work, expect the exchange betwixt Sideswipe and Tracks near the beginning of this chapter to make an appearance in "You May Be Right" as well. Because it amuses me, that's why. And if you don't know what "Knight Rider" is... you should be ashamed... but it's basically a cheese-tastic 80's show about a sexy talking Trans Am and David Hasselhoff. And Optimus Prime (Well, Peter Cullen...) plays the EVIL TWIN of the sexy Trans Am. Yup. And let me tell you... judging by the voice alone, Optimus would be a way scarier villain than Megatron... Good thing he's such a nice guy... And don't ask me about the peanut-butter incident. I'm leaving that to your imaginations.**

**A lot (not all. Never all.) of quotes in this chapter come from "Shock Treatment". Because I'd be willing to bet my kidneys that Wreck-Gar would LOVE that movie. Come to think of it, he uses a lot of "Rocky Horror" quotes, too... I like Richard O'Brien's works...**

**Also, if you're curious about alt-modes, I put a half-assed slideshow up on youtube. (My account name there is LithiumSax.) The only pic I hate is Jazz, because he's supposed to be a 2005 Porsche Carrera, but I couldn't find one with stripes... If anyone's curious, check it out, or just send me a PM and I'll be glad to say who's what! Except Wheeljack... I get the feeling he switches around a lot. He's always a hybrid of some sort, though, so...**

**Can we just all agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply? Also, "Knight Rider" (c) Gary Larson and Universal. Don't worry about it too much, though.**

oOo

Maggie was sure, from the day she moved out of her apartment and into Autobot HQ, that living with a bunch of aliens would eventually get her fired. It was a wonder she was able to get any work done at all, actually. Especially when Optimus wanted to have "a word" with her and Wreck-Gar, and refusing to say anymore on the subject unless they were both in his office. And especially when Wreck-Gar couldn't be found. The other Junkions hadn't seen him. Mikaela, who was frequently with Ratchet (when she wasn't with Sam, or popular female school friends), didn't think he had left the base. Sideswipe, bored as high hell, didn't know where he'd goten to, but agreed to help her and Asimo look, and Maggie agreed to let him because it was common knowledge that a bored Sideswipe was a dangerous Sideswipe. Nobody wanted a repeat of the peanut-butter incident.

"Hey, Blaster?" He was the fifth or sixth they'd asked

"Yo! What's crackin'? Da-yum, girl, you look like shit! Somethin' on yo' mind?"

"Thank you," she replied dryly. "And yes, something is on my mind."

"We're looking for Wreck-Gar!" Sideswipe chirped, grinning like an idiot.

"Uh..." Blaster's head made a soft whirring noise as he thought for a few seconds, then said, "Last I seen 'im, homeboy was chillaxin' wit' Tracks."

"And you let him?" Sideswipe cocked his head.

"Sideswipe, fo' the last time, me an' Tracks ain't gettin' it on. Not even clost. And if we were, I dun' need ta worry 'bout Wreck-Gar." The communications officer smiled down at Maggie. "Homie's already spoken fo', ain't he?"

Maggie gaped up at Blaster. What was he implying!? However, rather than saying anything in return, she, Sideswipe, and the loyal Asimo tropsed off to Tracks's room.

The door was open. And, of course, Tracks and Wreck-Gar were watching TV.

"See? Blaster knows everything that goes on! I win!" Sideswipe smirked triumphantly. The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Michael!" the Trans Am on the TV cried out in an almost nasal tone of voice. Tracks and Wreck-Gar looked enthralled.

"Is that 'Knight Rider'?" the Aussie asked incredulously. Wreck-Gar didn't turn around, shushing them. Tracks did turn around to glare:

"I happen to like Gary Larson's choice in vehicle, thank you very much." Of course Tracks would like the Trans Am. He was a Trans Am/Firebird himself, and one that really... "appreciated" Pontiac's famous car...

"Tracks has a crush on KITT!" Sideswipe announced in a sing-song voice. "Tracks has a crush on KITT! Tracks has a crush on - !"

Wreck-Gar shushed them again, but Tracks, fuming, didn't take notice. "Shut up! I do not! I just happen to think it's quality writing! That's _all_!"

"Well, if by 'quality' you mean 'unbearably cheesy', sure..."

"Philestine!"

"No need to get so defensive, prettyboy!"

"Sh!" Wreck-Gar shushed them _again_, more insistently.

"Don't you 'sh' me," Tracks glared. "Your human is here."

"Beg yours?!" Maggie gasped, appalled.

The Junkion turned and saw her for the first time, exclaiming delightedly, "Maggie!"

"Optimus wants to see us."

"But," he gestured to the TV, "the false promise of a new dawn usually leads to a most bloody sunset!"

"I don't care. C'mon."

oOo

"Maggie. Wreck-Gar," Optimus Prime regarded them kindly as they entered his office. "Have a seat. Sideswipe, you may go."

"Aw, no fair! I wanna know what's going on!"

"Sideswipe," Optimus pointed at the door, and the Lamborghini left, albeit grudgingly. "Now, as for you two... it came to my attention not too long ago that you two were... seeing each other..."

Maggie's face went bright red. Her boyfriend, unfazed, replied, "I have nipples, Greg. Could you milk me?"

The semi-truck made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a cough. "Wreck-Gar, I'd like to keep relations between the Junkions and Autobots amiable, as, if yesterday's battle is any indication, such an alliance could be very valuable." Maggie looked up, waiting for the "but". "But," ah, there it was, "if what Sideswipe and Sunstreaker says is true about you two, and judging by Maggie's reaction to your near-accident, it is, then- "

"Wait, _Sideswipe_!?" Maggie interrupted. "That bastard... I'm gonna wallop him!"

"Wreck-Gar, you understand that there are taboos on this sort of thing. Organics are... different then mechanical beings such as you and I."

"We lost our mom, we lost our dad, and if I'm losing her, then that's too bad," Wreck-Gar countered. "You're blinded by romance, you're blinded by science."

"What Wreck-Gar is trying to say, Optimus, is that it shouldn't matter. I'm a sentient being too, or have you forgotten? And I know I'm young by _your_ standards, but I _chose_ to date Wreck-Gar, not the other way around. You've said yourself that sentients have a right to choose for themselves."

Optimus stared at Maggie, expression unreadable. He should have expected that. She wasn't so highly regarded at the Pentagon for nothing. And she had a quickness about her that most women her age lacked.

"And besides," she continued, "as long as we're addressing taboos, humanity is a pretty young species, but this is still our planet, and most of it has something of a taboo against homosexuality. But, if we're listening to that twit Sideswipe, then you guys boink like jackrabbits all the time!"

"Technically, Cybertronians have no gender. We just use whichever pronouns suit us better."

"Arcee and BlackArachnia...?"

"They have more slender frames, which makes them more agile then the standard mech. It's all very strategic. That they have feminine voices is merely coincidence, I assure you."

"Right," Maggie smirked slightly in triumph.

"Maggie..." the Autobot leader shook his head, chuckling softly, "while I don't necessarily understand such a relationship, I can't deny that it's ultimately your choice. But Wreck-Gar, I- "

"Romance is not a children's game, but you keep going back," Wreck-Gar cut him off. "It's driving you insane."

"Prowl already talked to him," Maggie said. How she derived _that_ from Wreck-Gar's quotes, Optimus would never know. Maybe they were more well-matched than he thought.

"Very well, then. I suppose you're free to go. But in the future, I expect you to report to me if anything this major happens."

"The director boldly mixes tedium with un-scariness," Wreck-Gar whispered to Maggie, then turned to Optimus to announce, "You're looking at an ace!" He then proceeded, to stand up, open the door, and announce...

"...We've got movie signs!"

"Beg yours?" Curious, Maggie peered out the door from behind her lover's leg.

Bumblebee, Hot Rod, Jazz, Blurr, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker looked sheepish. The empty energon glasses behind their backs didn't go unnoticed.

"Were you guys eavesdropping?" she blushed slightly.

With the exception of Blurr, Optimus had never seen his troops transform and roll out so fast.

-_TBC_-

**Poor Optimus. I can't write him for shit. Oh, well...**

**I hope you liked that chapter! I can't tell you how long the next one'll take, cos this story is a lot more difficult than it seems (YOU try writing a convincing Wreck-Gar! I dare you!), but I'll do it when I do it.**


	7. Ironhide and Asimo's Excellent Adventure

**This is my only movieverse fanfic, and, as it were, Ironhide is one of my favourite characters in the new movie. And yet he has, like, zero dialogue here. I knew I had to fix it somehow. I also never touched on Glen's crush on Maggie (which is totally canon, by the way – read the novelisation if you can find it!). Plus I needed to give some love to little Asimo! Thus, this chapter was born!**

**Speaking of Asimo, has anyone seen the new Honda commercial with Asimo in it? It came on the other day when I was watching telly with the fam, and I was all, "OMG GASP WHEEZE" and my sister was all "OMG ARE YOU OKAY" and my brother was all "Breathe, stupid!" Yup. Anyway, it's probably on youtube, though I haven't checked. Asimo sure is cute.**

**I have multiple uncles that are Hell's Angels, thus the HA reference. (Daly City Angels, yo!) Also, the little kids that make a brief appearance are named after my brother and cousin. Cos I promised I would.**

**Is it weird that I'm working on chapter seven and haven't started chapter eight, but I've finished the first half of chapter nine? Well, that's also cos chapter nine was originally gonna be chapter seven, but I pushed it back. Most of the chapters stand alone as oneshots anyway**.

**I don't own "Transformers", the Honda Asimo, or a majority of Wreck-Gar's dialogue.**

**Can't we all just agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply?**

oOo

It figured. Nothing ever went Glen's way. Ever. His dream girl was stolen by a giant, possibly-homicidal, possibly-bipolar alien. His new white Vans had mud caked all over them. His cousin's hamster had chewed through one of the cords for his Nintendo Wii. His best friend within the Autobots, Blurr, was helping a group of Autobots fix a highway they had recently damaged. And it was a week until the most beautiful girl in the galaxy turned a year older, and he didn't have a gift. Nor did he know what to get her, because with aforementioned homicidal bipolar alien around, he couldn't possibly ask what she wanted!

There were only a few people who could help him in this dire emergency. Mikaela and Sam were out on a date, with Bumblebee acting as their chauffeur, natch. Jazz was attending a government meeting with Optimus Prime and Prowl. Blurr was, as before, busy, and Hot Rod and Arcee were working the same highway. And asking Maggie was, of course, out of the question! Leaving him no humans and one robot to turn to for help.

"Man," he scratched his head, "where is that damn Asimo when you need it!?"

oOo

Ironhide played the role of the tough guy within the Autobots, sort of like your gruff-but-loveable uncle who happens to be in the Hell's Angels. Which is why it comes as no surprise that he was currently in one of the many practice rooms, practising his already-impeccable shooting skills. But those who knew him knew that underneath all that, he was really a big softie.

Glen did not know Ironhide very well, which is why it came as a bit of a shock that with the Topkick in Target Practice was the little Asimo. When Honda had made the robot, they probably hadn't realised that it would one day be learning to shoot an alien weapon, with a giant robot as it's tutor.

If only because it'd be amusing later, Glen whipped out his cell and began filming.

"No, not like that," Ironhide tweaked the cannon in the tiny-by-comparison robot's arm, so that the angle was adjusted. "You're holding it all wrong."

The Asimo stumbled from the adjusted weight, accidentally pulling the trigger and causing the nearest target to explode.

"…Slag…" Ironhide helped the little thing up. "Wrong setting… guess we used too much power."

"Hey!" Glen pocketed his phone. His sudden shout caused the weapons specialist to jump and yank the weapon away from the little white robot. The image would have made Glen laugh, if Ironhide's glare didn't make him feel like pissing himself. "Uh… I need to borrow Asimo."

"I'm using it," the black mech growled. "Get your own."

"Aw, c'mon, man – I need to get Mags a birthday present and it's the only one who can help me!"

" 'Mags'?" Ironhide turned to the Asimo, who shrugged.

"Y'know…" Glen shifted nervously. "Maggie? Blonde Australian hacker lady? Smokin' bod and itty bitty miniskirts? Currently banging a space-motorcycle?"

Asimo chirped happily in understanding, tapping Ironhide's shin excitedly. The taller robot insisted, "I knew that…"

"Great! So, I can take it shopping, right?"

"Wrong. I'm watching it today." Ironhide paused. He also had neglected to get Maggie a birthday present, whatever that was. Quickly downloading an episode of some TV show from Google Video in which a human femme's bondmate forgot her birthday, he decided it would be in his best interests not to forget Maggie's. "I'm coming with you."

"_What!?"_

oOo

And so within a matter of minutes Glen and the Asimo were sitting in the cab of a shiny black Topkick on their way to the mall. Glen was contentedly playing PSP while Ironhide complained about the noises coming from the game system:

"Shut that stupid thing off before I do it for you!"

To spite the cranky mech, Glen turned the volume up even more.

"That's it!" Ironhide rumbled, then suddenly swerved, causing the PSP to go flying out the window and through a nearby fence on the sidewalk.

"What the hell?" the disgruntled human started tugging at the door handle. "What a dick move, man! Stop!"

Making a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, Ironhide pulled over. Glen leapt out and ran to the fence, stretching his right arm through the bars in a futile effort to retrieve his precious gaming system.

"I can't reach… just a little more… Asimo, help me out!"

The little robot obligingly hopped out of Ironhide's cab and began pushing its owner's friend. The idea was the extra push would help the human retrieve the little black machine it valued so much. The result was less-than-desired…

"I'm stuck!" Glen realised. "Ironhide, you're a strong guy! Help a brotha out, will ya?"

"No," Ironhide answered. "I'm not your brother. Besides, somewhat might see me transform. I'm in disguise – I'm supposed to be a secret, remember?"

"Secret, shmecret – half the people from the Mission City battle posted crappy cell phone videos on youtube."

"In disguise," Ironhide repeated. He was enjoying this.

Asimo looked back and forth between the human and the bigger robot-turned-truck, as if evaluating the situation, then calmly walked around the fence and picked up the PSP, handing it to Glen.

He glared. "You mean to tell me I could have walked around the fence and picked it up the whole time?"

"It was another option. If getting your head stuck didn't work, anyway," Ironhide replied smugly. Asimo made hand gestures akin to, "hang on, I'll think of something!"

"Ironhide, shut up. Asimo, try pulling me out from the other side," Glen offered.

The white robot nodded, then walked around the fence to pull on Glen's ankles. The human winced at the strain on his head… then winced even harder when he heard a loud _rrrriiippp_.

Ironhide's laughter did little to help the situation.

"Asimo," Glen gritted his teeth, trying his best not to get angry, "that ripping sound wouldn't happen to be my pants, would it?"

Managing to look sheepish even without a face, the little white robot slunk back around to the side of the fence where Glen's head was. With the body language of an ashamed child, it held up what had once been pants.

He sighed. "Just… go down to the nearest store and get some tools to get me out, okay? Can you two manage _that_?"

Asimo nodded fervently and ran back to Ironhide, who was still snickering evilly. As if the day wasn't bad enough, as soon as the two robots drove off, Glen heard two tiny giggles behind him. Great. He hated kids.

"Look, Chad, some pervert got his head stuck!"

"What's a pervert, Brendan?"

The two little boys ran around to look at the humiliated expression on the "pervert"'s face, laughing.

"Get outta here!" Glen tried to grab at them, but they were out of reach. "Go on! Get!"

After a few minutes, the two ran off gleefully, and Glen sighed. "Maggie had better appreciate what I go through for her… and where the hell are Ironhide and Asimo!?"

oOo

Night had fallen by the time the Topkick and the human-made robot returned to the fence and, by proxy, the human who was stuck, pantsless, barefoot, wet, and very agitated.

Asimo, clutching a plastic bag, poked at Glen's bare feet curiously, as if wondering where the shoes went.

Ironhide huffed, "Why do you smell like wet rodent?"

"Hobo took my shoes," Glen explained, "and two little snot-nosed brats squirted me with their damn Super Soakers. Did you bring tools?"

Asimo nodded, reaching into the plastic bag and proudly extracting a screwdriver.

Glen stared incredulously, twitching for a few seconds, before shouting, "A _screwdriver_!?"

The Honda robot seemed to shrink into itself, and Ironhide jumped to its defense:

"It's not Asimo's fault if you failed to give him proper direction! He had to improvise!"

"Oh, so now it's a he?"

"Well he's certainly not a _she_."

"What the _hell_ am I gonna do with a screwdriver!?"

"Drive screws."

Asimo looked so dejected that if he hadn't been pissed, Glen would have felt bad for it. Except for the fact that the little robot didn't really have true emotions, and for every "tool" it pulled out of the bag, Glen got madder and madder. A nail clipper. A box of crayons. A plastic butterknife. A cheap lighter. A USB flash drive. A pair of earrings. A wrench and some pliers. This was starting to get ridiculous.

"Asimo," Glen stopped the robot as it was pulling out a dreamcatcher, "is there _anything_ in there that can logically help me? Like a pry bar, or something slippery…?"

"Wheeljack requested we pick up some motor oil," Ironhide offered. The Asimo dropped the dreamcatcher and eagerly brought out a container of motor oil.

"Wh-what!?" Glen protested loudly as he felt the slimy liquid being poured onto his neck. "This is gonna stain, and my Grandma don't like stains! Stop that, Asimo – do I look like a motor that needs oiling? Aw, man…"

oOo

It was fairly late, and many Autobots were enjoying some off time in the common room when Ironhide returned from wherever he'd been, flanked by a gleeful looking Asimo and a humiliated, pantsless, barefoot, wet, cold, and oil-streaked human.

Hot Rod was the first to start laughing. Arcee hit him, and he laughed even harder, which caused Bumblebee, Wheeljack, and Sideswipe to laugh, which caused Jazz to laugh, which caused Blurr to laugh uncontrollably, which even managed to make Arcee, Prowl, and Ratchet smile…

Glen decided to walk home that night. It was going to be a long week.

-_TBC_-

**I love the Asimo. I just want to hug it and take it home and love it forever.**

**This was a fun chapter to write!**


	8. Happy Birthday, Maggie!

**I wasn't procrastinating on writing this chapter, honest! I was studying for AP exams! And beating off PC viruses! That's my story and I'm sticking to it!**

**I'm sorry for how badly this chapter sucks. Nothing would cooperate. I hate this chapter…**

**Between the PMS chapter and this one, it would appear that Mikaela is good at communicating with the Junkions. Funny how that worked out. Also, she seems like the type of girl who'd like "Flashdance". I don't know why it seems so; it certainly isn't on **_**my**_** list of top movies. Incidentally, the TV episode Mikaela mentions is the same one I made an allusion to last chappie with Ironhide.**

**Can't we all just agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply?**

oOo

It had occurred to Mikaela, while she was introducing Blaster, Jazz, and an extremely reluctant Prowl to her all-time favourite movie, "Flashdance", that Maggie's birthday was coming up soon. And when she went to go ask Wreck-Gar if he'd like to accompany her in buying a gift for the Aussie, it occurred to her that either Maggie was dating a complete spaz, or Junkions had very strange body language. Or possibly both.

Either way, he really didn't seem to get it until she explained it: "Did you ever see the episode of 'That 70's Show' when Red and Eric forgot Kitty's birthday?"

And here came the odd Junkion body language: Wreck-Gar froze for a few seconds in the way a computer screen might, with his head slightly bowed, making a soft whirring noise. Then, his entire body seemed to jump back in shock except for one foot, which remained firmly planted on the floor. The pose looked rather cartoon-like, actually. Which, when Mikaela thought about it, kind of made sense.

"So, you see, as Maggie's boyfriend, you _can't_ go forgetting her birthday! And," here she smiled coyly, "I don't have a car. If you come shopping with me now, both our problems are solved."

Leaning in close, the motorcycle replied with the most serious expression Mikaela had ever seen, "I am speed."

"Okay then," she grinned. "C'mon, let's roll out, already!"

oOo

Though she had played dumb for boys in the past (a fact she would always regret), Mikaela was far from stupid. She was well aware that Wreck-Gar wouldn't listen if she told him to stay in the parking lot, and, besides that, she had gotten him to come on the premise that he'd be picking out a gift as well.

So, naturally, the mall was out of the question.

Too bad she hadn't thought of that before. Oh, well, too late now. She could deal with people staring. A hyper-stimulated alien king, on the other hand…

"You'll find happy hearts, and smiling faces, and tolerance for the ethnic races in Denton!" Wreck-Gar grinned jovially, trying to take in as much of the new sights, sounds, and scents of this "mall".

…Mikaela knew she'd have a headache by the end of the day. But it was for her friend, so it had to at least count for good karma, right?

"Wreck-Gar, if we're going to get in trouble for this, we may as well be doing something productive. Start looking for a gift for Maggie!"

The Junkion waved his hand and blew air out his vents to make a sort of "psh" noise. "Relax, kemosabe. Earth girls are easy!"

"Well, I know she's had her eye on this one book, so I'm just gonna stop in Borders real fast and – hey, where are you going!? Oh, damn…"

She couldn't believe it. It was bad enough he'd insisted on accompanying her into the mall, but now he was running off! She bolted into a run towards the direction he'd headed, just _knowing_ Prowl was going to kill her for making him sit through a chick flick _and_ letting Wreck-Gar loose in public.

As mad as he was making her, though, she couldn't help but stifle a giggle when she found him. He looked torn as to whether he should go into Spencer's Gifts or Frederick's of Hollywood.

"Women are like wolves," he turned to face her, gesturing at the two stores. "If you want a wolf, you have to trap it. You have to snare it. And then you have to tame it. Keep it happy. Care for it. Feed it. Lovingly, the way an animal deserves to be loved. And my animal deserves a lot of loving."

"I hate to break it to you, Wreck-Gar, but I don't think your 'animal' is going to appreciate anything that comes out of either of those stores."

"But," Wreck-Gar looked exasperated, "I just don't understand how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad! I can't stand it – everything good always happens to other people."

"Come on," Mikaela rolled her eyes, then sighed as she noticed the store across from Frederick's. She would never understand why the local mall felt the need to include both a Borders and a Borders Express. "Well, I might as well buy her that book now."

"We are the men in black," Wreck-Gar answered, smirking.

"Galaxy defenders," she replied. Maybe this little field trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

Little did she know that they'd be in the mall for three more hours. And one of those hours would be spent in Sears, trying to convince a very stubborn alien that Maggie did _not_ need an ant farm.

oOo

It was three days later and a majority of the Autobots and their allies were crammed in the common room, waiting for Hot Rod to bring Maggie home from work for her surprise birthday party. Not that half the Autobots knew what a birthday even was, but Jazz was the one who had arranged the party, and everyone knew Jazz threw the _best_ parties. Actually, the "surprise" part of the party had been Wreck-Gar's idea, if only cos it was so cliché to see surprise parties on TV, and he really wanted to do one himself.

Most were excited, though Mikaela and Prowl couldn't look at each other without glaring. When Sam had asked her about it, she had gone off on a rant about how Prowl always had a stick up his ass and needed to lighten up, because for super-advanced aliens robots, it couldn't be _that_ hard to erase the memories of everyone that had supposedly seen an alien in the mall!

However, when they all jumped out and yelled "Surprise!" at her, Maggie didn't seem phased. Rather she just blinked, and checked her cell phone.

"Huh," she shrugged. "Guess it _is_ my birthday."

"You… forgot your day of creation?" Bumblebee was confused.

"Well, I've been so busy with work lately, I haven't even been sure what month it is!"

Four hours (and many inebriated party guests) later, the Junkion king wanted very much to give the extremely drunk birthday girl her gift that he'd spent so long picking out. When he held out the diamond ring to her, however, it had been the last thing anyone had expected.

Silence fell over the party guests, with the exception of Sideswipe singing karaoke on Blaster, as Wreck-Gar delicately placed the ring onto Maggie's ring finger. The Aussie stared at it, transfixed, before finally grinning and yelling:

"Well, shiiiiet, yes!"

Mikaela exchanged shocked looks with Sam and Glen – _What_!?

-_TBC-_

**I wrote part of this chapter in May, part in June, and part just now, so sorry if the flow is wonky. I really didn't want to do this chapter, although I'm glad I plowed through it, because I've been waiting to do a scene from the next chapter since writing the third chapter!**

**Poor, poor drunk Maggie. I don't think she quite realises what she's just done! What will she say when she finds out the next morning? I dunno, what do you guys think?**


	9. The One With the Huge Fight

**Yo yo yiggity yo, loyal readers! After a severe retool, here is the next installment. Hopefully it'll be a lot better than the load of tripe that I tried to pass off as last chapter.**

**As for the convo between Hot Rod and Bee in the beginning, interpret it as you want. Maybe Bee likes Sam, maybe Bee likes Mikaela, maybe Bee is going all paedophile on Annabelle, maybe Hot Rod is just being a douche, I dunno. If he does like Sam or Mikaela in your head, it's unrequited, though. I won't break them up. I like their theme song too much. As for myself, I think Bee saw an episode of "Hannah Montana" and wants to get in on with Miley Cyrus. Yup. I'm totally serious! Don't ask how I think up this stuff, cos I dunno. My theory is that someone places drugs in my tea every morning when I'm not looking.**

**Can we just all agree that the disclaimers from previous chapters still apply? **

oOo

The only coherent thought she could think as she stumbled into the rec. room (where the Autobots had kindly installed a fridge for their human friends) the next morning was to thank the deities she wasn't working that day. Her head hurt, she was dizzy, and her mouth tasted like stale vomit. At least there was still some cake left in the fridge - German chocolate, apparently. How many different types of cake had there ben the previous night? She couldn't remember - she could barely remember her own name!

"Uh, Maggie?" Ah, right, there it was. "You sure you should be eating that?"

"Bite yer bum, Sideswipe," Maggie sat down right on the floor and took a big bite of the cold cake, glaring at the red mech as she chewed. "Why aren't you as hungover as I am?"

"I don't get hangovers. You should see Jazz, though. Purged his intakes all over Prowl! It was hilarious!" the Lamborghini grinned like an idiot.

"I hope you burn in hell for being so happy this early in the day."

As Sideswipe's shenanigans continued to annoy the poor girl, a few metres away, Hot Rod and Bumblebee were having their own discussion:

"I don't care how valuable the alliance with the Junkions is - I think it's stupid to keep ignoring it!" the flamed mech was exclaming.

"You just think that cos Arcee thinks that..."

"Okay, that is _not _true! You know as well as I do that organics don't have sparks. Anyway, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with them having a fling, but for him to try anything otherwise - it's only gonna end with her leaking."

"You mean 'crying'," Bumblebee corrected. "Or at least I hope you do. And I don't see anything wrong with it if they're really in love. He'd never do anything to hurt her."

"I suppose you wouldn't," Hot Rod scoffed, ego bruised. He _hated_ being corrected, regardless of how minour the correction.

"I wouldn't what?" The Veedub's doorwings twitched.

"See anything wrong with it."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, no offense, 'Bee, but Arcee seems to think you have a fetish for the younger organics, and she _is_ pretty smart about these things."

"Wh-what?!" Bumblebee sputtered. Had he been organic, he would have been bright red with embarassment. "B-but I-!"

"Hey, we won't judge you, ya big perv," Hot Rod shrugged, grinning.

"Who's a perv?" Sideswipe waltzed into their conversation, Maggie right behind him, snapping at him for running off in the middle of her sentence. "You're one to talk, Roddy. I've seen the way you stare at Prime when we all rince the dirt outta our joints."

"I do _not_!" Hot Rod protested, as Bumblebee nodded his thanks to the Lamborghini. Said Lamborghini continued:

"Though, I can't say I blame you, after watching joors of Arcee's cycle of flirting and being a big fragging prude. I'd get tired of her, too."

The flamed mech glared, and Bumblebee could barely stifle his laughter.

With a tone of voice that was either extremely perceptive or completely oblivious, Maggie replied, "Ugh. You are so right on. Women are such teases! That's why I went back to men."

"...you guys are dicks," Hot Rod turned and walked off, causing Sideswipe to snicker. The two had never really gotten along very well.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, the red mech asked, "So, seriously, what were you guys talking about?"

"I was trying to convince him that there was nothing wrong with what happened last night." Here, Maggie perked up a bit - what had happened last night? Bumblebee continued, "I mean, sure, Wreck-Gar's far from normal - no offense, Maggie - but he isn't an idiot. I think he knew exactly what he was doing when he proposed."

"_What_!?" the Aussie squeaked. When Bumblebee and Sideswipe looked at her strangely, she glanced at her left hand - and shrieked.

"Well," the red mech backed up a bit, "I should probably go get Sunny up..."

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to take Sam and Mikaela somewhere..."

"Later, Mags!"

Barely processing their words, the blonde could do nothing but gape at the diamond ring on her finger.

oOo

She knew exactly where he'd be at that time of the day - down in the caverns, trying to learn maneuvers off the Chinese channel with the lesser Junkions. And so it didn't phase her to storm down there, march past all the underlings who she'd never bothered to learn the names of, snap at them not to bow to her, walk up to the junk-throne, and shout, "What the _hell_, Wreck-Gar?!"

The Junkion leader wasn't sure whether to grin or glare at her. "Uh... no?"

"What business do you have popping the question!?" she demanded. "I _just _got out of college, and we _just _started seeing each other, and even if that _weren't_ the case, it was _completely_ inappropriate for you to have done so when I was shit-faced!"

"Boss, she's got a chicken," one of the lesser Junkions said meekly, another one adding:

"Could be more than a chicken."

"Shut up!" she threw her hands up in frustration. "Just shut up with all your stupid obscure pop culture references! I am not some Junkion toy - I'm a human being, with rights, and a life to live, and a high-end career! And for _you_, Wreck-Gar, to be so _selfish_ - not just last night, but since I've _met _you! You think just because I'm not some fancy, centuries-old machine, I'm automatically your property or something? That's not how a loving relationship works! So you can take this back," she yanked off the ring and threw it at the throne, "because I would _never_ marry anyone as self-centred as you."

As he watched her walk away angrily, Wreck-Gar picked up the ring, twirling the tiny trinket in his fingers. He couldn't help but comment, though too quiet for her to hear, "Love, desire, ambition, faith - without them, life is so simple, believe me."

The lesser Junkions clicked and whirred at their king, but when he ignored them, they exchanged worried glances - had the flesh-queen shut him down for good?

oOo

A week passed, and Maggie refused to answer any questions, changing the subject whenever Wreck-Gar or the proposal came up in conversation.

Another week, and not even Optimus could get it out of her.

Two more weeks, and right as Glen finally got the courage to ask her out, she went on a date with a friend of her boss, a man named "Tony". Glen was distraught, and everyone else started to worry.

Three weeks and two Decepticon attacks later, a large crowd of Junkions invaded the common room, where Maggie was currently on her MacBook. She didn't acknowledge them when they tossed their unresponsive leader on the ground in front of her and stood back amongst the other Cybertronians in the room.

When nothing happened, it was Jazz who broke the silence. "Mags... talk ta him."

She looked at Wreck-Gar, then calmly replied, "I have nothing to say to him. We're over."

"Don't look over to him. Jus' talk ta him. Look at him - he's completely shut himself down. Give him some closure, at the very least."

She looked away, biting her lip. "Uh... there's not really anything I can say. I'm with Tony now - a _human_. And a wealthy one, at that. One who can provide for me."

"One who you love?" Mikaela was the next to speak up.

Maggie looked uncomfortable. "Well, no, but... I mean, not yet, I... I never loved Wreck-Gar!"

"You accepted his proposal," the brunette arched a perfectly-plucked eyebrow.

"I was drunk."

"You still accepted."

"Mikaela - "

"Maggie, _look_ at him! Look at your_self_!"

Not sure how to reply, the blonde timidly looked at Wreck-Gar as he sat up and stared directly at her feet. He looked miserable, and she could feel her stubbornness melting away as her heart dropped into her intestines.

"Maybe..." she sighed. She just knew she'd regret this. "Maybe it's time to break things off with Tony... not like it's going anywhere, I suppose..."

"And?" Mikaela prompted. The Aussie glared, but continued:

"Maybe I overreacted a little... Okay, a lot..."

"_And_?"

"And maybe Mikaela needs to shut up and quit pushing me," Maggie grumbled. "Look. I'm not perfect. I can be really stubborn. I never think before I act, and even if I know I'm wrong about something, I'd rather live in denial than admit it. But... I was wrong, Wreck-Gar. I'm... I'm sorry..." The Junkion leader sat up straighter, his optics beginning to glow and his wheels beginning to spin. "I don't expect you to forgive me. Hell, if I were you, I'd hate me."

"Apology accepted," he leaped up and scooped her up, nuzzling her hair. "Happy birthday."

"You're welcome," Mikaela grinned.

As the pair departed, undoubtedly to go have steamy make-up sex (at least if the twins were to be believed), Blurr turned to Glen:

"Hey, yougonnabeokay? CosIknowhowyoufeelabouther, andIdon'twantyoutobeupset, soIwasjustcheckingthatyou'regonnabeokay, cosifyouaren'tokaythenI-"

"I'll be fine," Glen sighed. "She's better off with him than that rich jerk, right? Anyway, as long as she's happy."

"Areyousure, because-"

"Shut _up..._"

-_TBC_-

**WOW, that turned out differently than the outline. Where the hell did ASIMO go in this chapter? I really don't know where to go from here, except I've got a whole scene that I wrote for this chapter that didn't fit when it took on a (much darker than I intended) mind of its own. I guess it comes next chapter, when I decide whether or not they really are getting married. Gah, I don't know. This was supposed to be the penultimate chapter, but then it had to go be uncooperative and turn into this huge drama-fest...**

**Fun fact, though. Maggie's boyfriend Tony was named for Tony Stark! Because that's another pairing I'd like to see Maggie in. Told you I was weird. Actually, ****I'm beginning to think I have a masochistic streak. Why else would I have taken this on? Someone help?**

**Also, I got my livejournal up. For news on this and other stories, check it out - it's linked to my homepage.**


End file.
